“All but what was in the men’s pouches,” replied the Major.
“Then what do you mean to do?”
“Fix bayonets,” said the Major quietly.
“And not surrender?” said the Resident.
“Not while we have any fight left in us, Sir Charles. We have our women to protect; and besides, there are the three detachments out in the jungle. I begin to think that this explosion will prove to be a blessing in disguise, and act as a rallying-call to bring the men back and take the enemy, if they come on again, in the rear.”
“Yes, to be sure,” said the Resident, who stood half-turned from his companions in distress, and was gazing hard in the direction of the river.
“Well, Sir Charles, I presume you agree with me that we must stand to our guns—or, I should say, hold to our bayonets—till the very last? Help may come at any hour now.”
“Yes, certainly, sir,” replied the Resident; “but I am afraid—”
“I wouldn’t say so, sir,” said the Major, with a bitter laugh.
“You know what I mean,” said Sir Charles sternly. “I fully expect that we shall have another body of Malays, to join in the attack, from down the river—I mean, the Rajah Hamet’s men.”